Why I Love Growing Old {and Other Notes on Turning 32}

I totally forgot I was having a birthday this year. {A clear sign that I'm getting older.}

When I remembered, it was difficult for me to decide how old I was going to be. Just a few months ago I claimed to be 29...in all seriousness. And wasn't I turning 25 and getting married...like yesterday?

As a side note, "You look really good for your age" somewhow does not feel like a compliment when you're 32. {Although it was a sweet thought from a blond twenty-something. Bless her heart.}

But really, turing 32 was pretty great.

All day I received calls and texts and emails from family and friends wishing me a happy day. I felt so loved.

And, my handsome hubby treated me like a queen. He was cute and flirty and sweet and loving all day. He showered me with thoughtful gifts {which is not a requirement, but always a nice touch. :)} and took me on a proper date.

He picked out a musical card from the girls that played "how sweet it is to be loved by you..." It made me laugh because AC hijacked it. And the sweet message made me cry.

He even got me my very own pack of gum that I don't have to share with anyone else. {I love that!}

I'm certain that even when I'm 90 he'll still make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

And that's why I love growing old.